


All Gold Stays

by Immi



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, melog steals them a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24266764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immi/pseuds/Immi
Summary: The problem with saving people seems to be that it's contagious. Like love.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 201





	All Gold Stays

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, I wasn't going to write this, then I did. It is exceedingly pointless fluff based around Catra and Adora being little kids who saved each other, so it's only natural they turn around and keep saving kids.

Planets come in two shades, as far as Catra can tell: dust and glitter.

They’re hitting more glitter ones as the years go by. Makes sense. More magic, more fluff, less dead stuff. Some of the places aren’t even that bad. Oider had a massive, claustrophobic maze of air that sent them all flying down chutes of rock that turned into flying down chutes of reflective crystal that let her watch the shocked laughter that hit Adora’s face when Catra kicked her into the loop-de-loop whirlwind.

“We can come back,” Adora tells her each time, like where they go means anything at all. Like it’s the trees and the rocks and the weird rainbow flavors of sky that make a place good instead of the way Adora’s eyes light up at all of it.

Today’s glitter is another of the old First Ones’ mistakes, which translates to it being weirdly like home until a giant bird shows up and regurgitates orange goo all over them. In thanks. It’s disgusting and gross and Melog shrinks onto her shoulders and hisses all the way through Adora being asked to somehow shake hands with a talking rock to fully celebrate the latest harmony of interplanetary friendship.

Everyone starts singing after that.

The singing goes with the glitter.

Catra goes with Adora. So it’s all awful, but okay. Plus, the place has waterfalls that aren’t wet. The goo comes off, Adora dunks her into a pond, Catra grabs her ankle and drags her to the bottom, they make out. It’s a kind of good.

More importantly, they’re going home soon. Bags are packed, giant birds are gone. Talking rocks are slowly dispersing. Other things are hugging for way too long, and Catra maybe hugs back a little. For diplomacy.

They’re all set, teary goodbyes done, when the problem hits both of them. Adora looks down at her legs, and then Catra’s legs, and it’s hard not to notice that Melog’s not wound between either set.

As one, they look down the road at the wood of edible trees they’ve been told, repeatedly, are for decoration. Melog thinks they’re for climbing. Melog has good taste.

“Uh, Catra—”

“I’ll go.”

“I’ll come with you!” Adora announces. Blasting magical sunshine out of her mouth. Her hand tangles with Catra’s and moving is like. A challenge.

They can’t ever just walk in time. Marching practice still makes the top five list of useless activities the Horde put them through. Adora walks with the manic energy of someone who needs ten naps. Catra walks faster. Adora thinks that makes it a race and walks faster. Catra doesn’t lose races. And starts running.

Adora’s undignified yelp is right behind her, the way it should be; fastened tight to her fingers. By the time they’re diving over their first tree root together, Catra is still winning, because Adora is breathless with smiles.

Beauty isn’t a princess power, whatever Perfuma says. Adora has it like she has Catra. There’s no magic, just a weird, magnetic stubbornness that Catra would call gravity if she didn’t see what Adora did to gravity on a regular basis.

She lets herself fall into orbit for a second, loving the way Adora’s eyes still go wide, and loving Adora. Their free hands slip together and entangle, and Adora nuzzles into her with a contentment that’s almost relaxed.

“Love you.”

Catra would really be okay never moving from this spot.

A soft, mewling rumble draws groans from both of them, and Adora pulls away with a grin that’s mostly all sap. “Melog,” she calls out. “Time to go! We have trees at home!”

“Boring trees.”

“They aren’t _all_ boring.”

“Yeah, some have splinters.”

Adora rolls her eyes and pecks Catra on the lips in a way that leaves her wobbly all over. Unfair. Catra squeezes her hand and lets her lead deeper into the trees, following the sounds of a happy Melog.

Now including giggling.

Melog picks up weird sounds from literally everything, so it isn’t weird, but stepping into a clearing and finding those sounds coming from a ratty bale of hay—is really in keeping with their last week of life. The hay has limp, floppy ears Melog keeps tugging at, and the next noise is more squeal than giggle.

Another lifetime of being that small translates the noise, and the ratty bale of hay falls backwards on top of Melog’s paw, revealing a face. A child face. Baby-level kid.

And there’s an emotion to that, because they’ve been so many places, and all of those places have scars. Nowhere and everywhere is like Etheria. While Adora’s running around knocking over buildings and making everyone’s eyes starry, kids end up crawling all over Catra, asking if _she really knows her_. She can’t yell at them to stay away, because she’s pretty safe company in a warzone, and.

They’re all like her. And Adora, and Melog. Lost and a bit damaged, and when they ask if Catra’s here to save them, the answer always turns into yes.

Melog disappears, and the baby gasps before being lifted into the air by a re-visible tail. Its ratty yellow hair flops like its ears, and a small tuft sticks out of its back. When Melog carries it gently back to the ground, the tuft gives one sharp flick, then freezes in a way that can’t be natural.

Crawl would turn into fall without Melog there, mewling and holding up its little head with a warm nose and damp tongue. Whatever awkward has to be in a tail only being half there, it turns into a shriek of giggles so happy it sounds like Adora. Otherworldly and kind of perfect.

Adora’s hand squeezes hers.

Catra doesn’t have to look, because she knows. She’s seen it a million times, and it’s still good. She chooses to look, heart in her throat and tail firmly around Adora’s waist.

Unfiltered wonder and happiness shine from Adora, making her big blue eyes spark even bigger and bluer, and making Catra’s knees feel like rubber. Adora’s shoulder is right there for balance and she drapes herself all over it. If her lips happen to fall on her neck on the way, it’s absolutely on purpose and adds to the experience.

Melog notices. With a rolling “ _Mreowr,_ ” the little foundling is grabbed by its scruff and teleported a foot in front of them with a gasped squeal. Melog’s tail winds around Catra’s ankle, and nudges the hay bale head into her hand.

Delight layers on delight, and it’s flopping around so eagerly that Catra catches it uncertainly before it slides out of Melog’s mouth.

She doesn’t know a whole lot about baby-babies, but it’s light. Too light, and its soft, mud-patched face has scrapes all over. One dull little tooth sticks out of its gums, and there are way too many memories there for the kind of softness that wells up with it.

Its eyes are big and blue.

Melog’s contented purr rumbles against her leg.

“Hey, Adora?”

Adora’s finger is hovering over its little baby face, and it grabs it with a happy coo and shoves it in its mouth. Drool goes everywhere. Adora’s eyes are still doing the thing. “Hey, Catra.”

What she’s about to say sounds stupid, but it’s the stupid that would have Arrow and Sparkles hopping all over and screaming in her ear, and that feels better than most things are allowed.

“We’ve got a pretty good one,” Catra says, fumbling. “A home. Which this thing doesn’t have. And I know like, kidnapping is a crime or whatever, but.” Unkempt, matted hair pushes insistently into Catra’s hands. “Finders keepers?”

Adora smiles up at her, and the world goes still. A little. There’s a baby they’re kidnapping and Melog asking for pets. But when Adora is there, real through looking like a dream, there can’t be much of anything else.

Glitter everywhere.

It’s perfect.


End file.
